


A Fortunate Rescue

by rachel_exe



Series: Geraskier Prompts [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Firefighter Geralt of Rivia, Frottage, Getting Together, Hair-pulling, Injury, Kissing, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-02-22 23:22:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23768782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachel_exe/pseuds/rachel_exe
Summary: Geralt says something, Jaskier is sure of it, but he doesn't know precisely what. The man repeats himself, checking Jaskier’s body from head to toe and then licks his dry lips. He is probably just making sure everything is okay with him after the fire, but the gesture is so sexy Jaskier’s clouded mind goes in an entirely different direction.“Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip? ‘Cause if you did, we’re having sex. Right now.”The man blinks a few times. “This one has inhaled too much smoke.”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geraskier Prompts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667848
Comments: 54
Kudos: 857





	A Fortunate Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> Fic written for the prompt: “Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip? ‘Cause if you did, we’re having sex. Right now.”   
> I hope you enjoy! :)

Smoke is snaking its way down Jaskier’s lungs, replacing the oxygen in them. He leans against the wall as another coughing fit stops him in his way to the door, and he bends in half while he tries to breathe normally again. The unbearable heat of the room doesn't help, and a hint of panic tugs at his stomach. Is this where he is going to die?

He refuses to let the fire win, and with major efforts he starts walking again only to be stopped by another wall of flames. If he ever finds out who in his apartment complex decided to leave the stove on unguarded, he is going to give them a piece of his mind. If he gets out of this alive, that is. 

His vision starts to blur, and the smoke hides the path ahead. Jaskier is covered in sweat by now, and the panic from before is turning into actual terror. He really is going to die here. He starts crying, this isn’t how it was supposed to go, he had plans and ambitions for the future, but it all looks so far away now, a dream from which he is about to wake up. 

In his confused state he thinks he hears voices and steps, but he is slowly losing consciousness and doesn’t know what is reality and what an illusion anymore. There is a bang and then quick footsteps before he is being carried out of the apartment. He opens his eyes, eyelids so heavy it feels like lifting a house. When he sees the person carrying him, he is certain he has died. He isn’t too sure he deserves to go to heaven, but the man holding him between his arms has the eyes of an angel. 

He passes out for a brief moment and when he wakes up next, he is in an ambulance, a man with white hair and a woman around him. He recognises the golden eyes of the man from before and stares at him in his state of confusion. He hears him talk but doesn’t really catch what he is saying, too busy with his scrutiny. He is even more handsome than he anticipated, and he can’t tear is gaze away, not even when the man looks back at him. 

He says something, Jaskier is sure of it, but he doesn't know precisely what. The man repeats himself, checking Jaskier’s body from head to toe and then licks his dry lips. He is probably just making sure everything is okay with him after the fire, but the gesture is so sexy Jaskier’s clouded mind goes in an entirely different direction. 

“Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip? ‘Cause if you did, we’re having sex. Right now.” 

The man blinks a few times and even the woman with him stops to look at him, half amused, half surprised by Jaskier’s comment. 

“This one has inhaled too much smoke,” the firefighter says, and now that he has regained a bit of consciousness, Jaskier can understand what he’s talking about. 

“Not at all, I clearly saw you checking me out and then biting your lip.” 

“Your vision is still blurred from the smoke,” the man replies in a blank voice. “I think it’s best if you take him to the hospital, Triss.” 

“Yes, Geralt,” the woman retorts with an amused smirk on her lips. “Don’t you want to go with him?” 

Geralt glares at her and doesn’t spare even a glance to Jaskier as he hops down the ambulance. 

“No, wait, I was serious,” Jaskier calls after him, coughing more smoke out. “I’m really up for it if you want.” 

Triss chuckles. “Try asking him again when you can breathe properly,” she says before placing an oxygen mask on Jaskier’s face. 

Jaskier whines and his eyes don’t leave the figure walking away from him until the doors of the ambulance close to take him to a hospital. 

  
  
A few weeks pass before Jaskier has fully recovered from the incident and it will take many more before he can go back to his apartment again, so he has to live with an aunt that has a house in the area. Some friends have offered to lend him their couch, but Jaskier doesn't want to impose and his new house is closer to his workplace. 

It is also very near the fire station and that’s the main reason why he decides to move there. During his recovery, he has never stopped thinking about the firefighter that saved his life nor has he forgotten how much of a fool he was after that. He blames it entirely on the smoke that didn’t let the oxygen go to his brain, but he has to admit that it was mostly his subconscious speaking out loud. The man really did look too good to be of this world, and partially to apologise for his behaviour and partially to see him once more, the first thing he does when leaving the hospital is going to the fire station. 

He doesn’t have a speech prepared nor a list with bullet points he’d like to cover, so his stomach isn’t entirely calm when he buzzes the station. 

“Yes?” a voice says over the intercom. 

“Ehm, hello,” Jaskier replies. “Is Geralt here?” 

“Do you have an emergency, sir?” 

“No, not really, I just want to talk to him about a fire that happened at my place some weeks ago.” 

“If there’s a problem with what happened, you should talk to the police.” 

Jaskier groans. Why is this man being so good at his job? 

“No, no, I just want to talk to Geralt personally for a moment if it’s possible.” 

“I’ll see if he can meet you,” the man eventually replies and cuts the conversation. 

Jaskier waits in front of the gate, pacing in front of it for what feels like an eternity while his mind is invaded by all sorts of thoughts. He shouldn’t have come, what was he thinking? The firefighter is probably busy or has forgotten about him, and Jaskier really should have stayed home instead of risking to make a fool of himself once again, but it’s too late now, the gate is opening and the man with white hair is looking at him. 

He is wearing his uniform - God bless - and Jaskier doesn’t regret having come anymore. 

“Hello,” he greets, walking up to him. “I don’t know if you remember me, but you saved me some weeks ago when my apartment complex was burning down. I’m Jaskier.” 

“Yes, I remember you,” Geralt replies, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Is there an issue with the rescue?” 

“No, no, I didn’t come for this at all, you were great actually, so much that I was wondering if you’d like to go get a coffee together as a thank you from me.” 

Geralt raises an eyebrow, but his face turns into a blank expression immediately after. “There’s no need for that, I was just doing my job.” 

“Yes, I know, but I’d still like to thank you,” Jaskier insists, rubbing his nape. “And I also wanted to apologise for how I behaved afterwards.” 

“No need to do either.” 

The emotionless tone in Geralt’s voice takes Jaskier aback, and he doesn’t know what to say to convince him to accept his offer. 

A siren pierces through the awkward silence between them, and a determined expression morphs Geralt’s features. 

“I have to go,” he says before running back inside the station. 

Jaskier would like to call him back, but once again all he can do is to watch him leave. 

  
  
A few days pass where Jaskier tries to sort his life out and semi-permanently settle in his aunt’s house while also going back to work. His days are so full, the memory of the firefighter is starting to fade until one day he meets him again and realises his mind might have forgotten him, but his subconscious hasn’t. 

It’s the first time he goes to the new supermarket near his aunt’s house, so he takes all the time he needs to get acquainted with the layout and see what products they have there. He is in the coffee isle and is trying to choose a valid alternative to the one he usually drinks, a kind of blend that they don’t have there, but he doesn’t feel like going all the way across down just to get it. Or at least not now. He is inspecting the various products when he spots a white shadow with the corner of his eye, and he whips his head around immediately. 

The man that saved his life is there with a trolley already half full and looking at the shelf with different kinds of flour. He isn’t wearing his uniform, much to Jaskier’s dislike, but maybe this means he can convince him to grab a coffee with him. He picks up his basket and walks up to him, a sudden surge of courage directing his feet. 

“Hello,” he says when he stops next to Geralt. The man turns to look at him somewhat confused. “It’s still me, the one from the fire a few weeks ago.” 

“Yes, I remember,” Geralt replies, surprising Jaskier. “I’ve never seen you around here.” 

Suspecting Geralt probably considers him a stalker by now, Jaskier quickly explains, “I’ve temporarily moved in with my aunt while I take care of all the insurance stuff. Can’t really afford a new apartment right now.” 

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” Geralt unexpectedly changes tone. “I met a lot of people in your situation during the years, we try to act as quickly as possible, but it’s not always easy to subdue a big fire in little time.” 

“I know it’s not your fault, and in fact I’d like to thank you for what you have done,” Jaskier tries again as casually as possible. 

However, Geralt isn’t fooled by his fake innocence and purses his lips in annoyance. “Again with this story?” 

“I’m just trying to be a good person and do something nice for someone that saved my life.” 

“As I told you before, there is no need.” 

“It’s nothing serious, just a coffee for all the hard work you do. And also as an apology for running my mouth like that after the fire.” 

This time there is a little smile on Geralt’s mouth, but it lasts a grand total of a second before he sets his lips in the usual stern line again. 

“Alright, you win, I’ll get a coffee with you.” 

“Really?” Jaskier beams; he almost lost all hope as he waited for Geralt’s reply. “How about we finish our shopping and then go to that cute café nearby? We can put the bags in my car if you’ve come by foot.” 

“No, I came by car too.” 

“Perfect! I’ll wait in the parking lot.” 

Geralt nods. “Alright.” 

They go their own ways, and Jaskier quickly finishes his shopping with excited butterflies in his stomach. He didn’t think he’d be able to convince Geralt to grab something with him, but he is more than please that he has managed to do it. Curiosity mixed with attraction and a bit of shame for his behaviour have made him bolder than he has ever been, and now he just hopes he isn’t going to make an even bigger fool of himself. 

They get to the parking lot almost at the same time, Jaskier meeting the man with a wide smile while he only gets a courteous nod in return, and then they walk to the café down the road. The place is packed, it’s the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday so it’s no surprise that people go there to chat and have some good coffee together, but they still manage to find an empty table at the end of the café. Jaskier likes the chattering around them, it makes the encounter even more intimate as their voices easily get lost in the cacophony of the room and no one can understand what they’re talking about. 

“This place is pretty lovely, isn’t it?” Jaskier says after ordering their coffees. “I’ve been coming here quite often since I’ve moved in the neighbourhood.” 

“Seems popular,” Geralt comments, looking around. 

“It’s because of the coffee, it’s really good, so much that I bet you’ll be coming here more often too.” 

“We’ll see about that.” 

“You’ll find me here every time I’m not at work, which is pretty rare these days, actually.” 

“What do you do?” Geralt asks, eyes back on Jaskier. 

“I’m an accountant,” Jaskier groans. “I know, pretty boring and not really my thing, but it pays well, and I always find more fulfilment in my hobby anyway.” Geralt raises an eyebrow in interest, and Jaskier doesn’t wait for him to speak before adding, “I play the lute.” 

“The lute?” Geralt repeats, both surprised and curious. 

“Not very common, I know, but it has a wonderful sound, and I’m pretty good at it,” Jaskier says with a fire of excitement in his eyes. “I even write songs to go with the melodies, mostly ballads, actually.” 

“Not common at all.” 

“I know, but what can I say? The lute called for me, and I couldn't ignore it.” 

“And what are your songs about?” Geralt presses, surprising Jaskier even more, but if there’s one thing Jaskier could talk about for the rest of his life, it’s indeed his singing. 

“They’re about anything, honestly,” he starts. “Whatever inspires me will get a song, and that can be a beautiful sunrise, a couple in love, past heartaches, beautiful men saving my life.” 

Geralt raises his eyebrows again, but this time there is also an amused grin on his lips that doesn't go unnoticed. 

“I almost died that day, so of course you’re getting a song,” Jaskier says. “I can sing it for you if you want.” 

“Maybe another day,” Geralt replies. 

“I’ll take that as a promise,” Jaskier grins. 

Their coffees arrive, and Jaskier immediately takes a sip from his mug. The hot beverage burns his throat, but it warms him up from the inside and the delicious taste invades his mouth, placing a smile on his lips. Geralt is more careful and waits a bit before drinking, but when he does his features display his contentment. 

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Jaskier says. 

“I’ve had worse coffees.” 

“I knew you’d like it!” 

Geralt scoffs and Jaskier swears his heart skips a beat at the smile on his lips. 

“What do you do in your free time?” he asks. “I’ve told you about my lute, what about you?” 

“I don’t have much free time to begin with, but when I do, I just take care of the house.” 

“I’m sure being a firefighter keeps you very busy.” 

“It does, but I like it.” 

There is such genuineness in Geralt’s tone that Jaskier can’t help but suspect that under that cold facade lies a caring heart. 

“That’s very admirable,” he smiles. 

Geralt shrugs and takes a sip of his coffee without accepting Jaskier’s compliment, but also without dismissing it. 

They spend over an hour talking over several coffees, and the more they are together, the more Jaskier wants to stay. It’s taking him all his chattiness to break through Geralt’s thick coldness, but he is surely melting a path to his real self. As time passes Geralt is visibly more relaxed, and Jaskier has finally managed to convince him he isn’t a creepy stalker, but just someone that yes, is interested in him, but also so grateful he just wants to be nice. 

Being around Geralt feels comfortable, and the initial awkwardness has completely vanished, replaced by a friendly atmosphere just in the matter of an hour. Jaskier absorbs everything Geralt wants to tell him and doesn't press further when he understands the man doesn’t want to talk. He fills those moments up with some anecdotes from his job, and more often than not he goes back to his singing, never tired of talking about his passion. 

When after a good hour Geralt casually looks at his watch and says he has to go, Jaskier is more than disappointed but doesn’t stop him from standing up. They leave their seats and make their way to the counter to pay. 

“It’s on me,” Jaskier says, giving the money to the waiter. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt protests, and the brunet gets lost in the sound of his voice for a second. 

“I invited you out, so it’s only fair that I pay too,” Jaskier retorts. “You can buy me a coffee next time if you want.” 

There is a cheeky grin on his lips as he says that, but behind his confidence there is a lot of hope. He’d love to meet Geralt again, to get to know him better, and simply spend more time with him. 

“Fine,” Geralt grunts but his voice doesn't come out as annoyed as when Jaskier asked him out the first time, and his eyes shine with a suspiciously pleased light. 

“This might earn you another stanza in my ballad,” Jaskier winks as they make their way out of the café. 

“How lucky,” Geralt ironically replies. 

“You really are,” Jaskier dares, heart speeding up at what feels like flirting to him, but he isn’t disappointed; Geralt smirks too, and the brunet feels his cheeks slowly lighting up. 

  
  
They meet almost regularly twice a week, always in the same café and always closer. By now Jaskier can’t deny the feelings that make his heart beat faster every time he’s with Geralt, and he looks forward to their encounters with increasing anticipation. He doesn’t dare to call them dates - yet - but that’s how it feels to him; they go out together, flirt for an hour straight, and then promise to see each other again. 

He is sure Geralt is enjoying their meetings too, he is easier to read now, easier to convince to spend just five minutes longer at their table before leaving. Sometimes Jaskier goes to pick him up at the fire station and they go to the café with Geralt still wearing his uniform, and it’s so distracting Jaskier loses his trail of thoughts way too many times, but Geralt doesn’t reproach him for it, he only makes fun of him, subtly hinting at what they’re both thinking. 

It’s a Tuesday when they have to meet again, and Jaskier is so happy for it he barely looks where he is walking as he goes to work. He is looking at the sky as he thinks of possible new melodies for a ballad he’s coming up with, so he doesn't see the pothole when he hops down the sidewalk. His ankle bends, and a sharp pain shoots up his leg. 

“Fuck,” he hisses while he tries to walk on that foot again, but to no avail; every time he puts it on the ground, it hurts even more. 

He tries over and over again, maybe he can endure the pain, or the ankle will miraculously heal itself, but after a few more meters spent in pain, he gives up and calls a taxi to go the hospital. 

His ankle is sprained, nothing too worrisome, but he still can’t use his foot much and preferably has to walk with the crutches. He mentally curses his clumsiness, there’s no way he can meet Geralt in the afternoon, he’s still in pain and certainly can’t drive, so the only thing he can do is call Geralt and ask to reschedule. 

When he calls his phone, Geralt doesn’t reply. It doesn’t surprise Jaskier, he knows the man usually leaves it in a locker when he’s at work, so he calls the fire station. The phone rings a couple of times before a man picks up. 

“Hello,” Jaskier replies to his greeting. “Is Geralt there? It’s Jaskier.” 

“He’s here,” the man says in what sounds like an amused tone. “Geralt,” his voice is muffled now. “You boyfriend is on the phone.” 

A light blush covers Jaskier’s cheeks at those words, but he has to admit there’s a nice ring to them. 

“He’s coming,” the same man disrupts him from his fantasy. 

“Thank you.” 

“Hey,” Geralt says after a few seconds. “Is something up?” 

“Yes, I’m terribly sorry, but I can’t come this afternoon,” Jaskier groans. “I sprained my ankle going to work this morning and walking with the crutches is a pain. Do you think we can reschedule?” 

“Are you okay?” Geralt asks, worried. 

“Yes, yes, everything’s fine, the doctor said it should take me just some weeks to heal, it’s nothing major, but I still should try to rest as much as possible.” 

“Then you should listen to your doctor, we can meet once you’ve healed.” 

“Do you want me to wait that long?” Jaskier whines. 

“Why? Need a firefighter to save you again?” Geralt teases. 

“Yes, I’ll go crazy if I’m always by myself.” 

“Don’t you have your lute to keep you company? Weren't you working on some new songs?” 

“Stop making fun of me,” Jaskier protests when a brilliant idea crosses his mind. “Wait, why don’t you come over this afternoon? I can make us coffee.” 

“At your house?” Geralt asks, confused and surprised. 

“Yes, my aunt is at work until the evening, so we have the house all for ourselves.” 

There is a moment of silence before Geralt replies, “Okay, tell me the address.” 

“Yes!” Jaskier rejoices, and quickly tells Geralt where he lives before ending the call. 

He scrambles around the house, gathering things up, dusting, washing, and airing everything out for when Geralt will come. He fixes the cushions on the sofa with nervous fingers and lines up all the coffee blends he has for Geralt to choose from. Taking a shower proves to be harder than expected, but he somehow manages to do it without spraining his other ankle and wears his best clothes even if it’s just to stay inside the house on the sofa. 

Geralt is as punctual as always and when he opens the door, Jaskier is disappointed not to see him with his uniform, but the happiness of having him there makes up for the insignificant detail. 

“Hello,” he greets, leaning on the door for support. “Glad you could make it.” 

“It wasn’t hard to find,” Geralt replies, making his way inside. “The ankle?” 

“It’s… sore,” Jaskier admits. 

“Did you put ice on it?” 

“I did, but then I walked around the house to make it look presentable” 

Geralt frowns as if he was looking at a naughty child. “Where’s the point of the ice then?” 

“Appreciate the effort,” Jaskier tells him. “Come to the kitchen so I’ll make us both coffee.” 

Jaskier wobbles his way there, and Geralt follows after him, never urging him to go faster. 

Jaskier indicates a stool at the breakfast counter. “You can sit there while I prepare this.” 

“Let me help,” Geralt says instead, joining him near the sink. 

“There’s no need, I can do it,” Jaskier protests, but there’s no way to persuade Geralt and he ends up accepting the offer. 

He takes the mugs and leans to reach the sink without using his bad ankle, but he loses his balance and is about to fall when Geralt catches him. 

“Careful,” he says without letting him go. 

Jaskier has to look away to hide the blush that has crept up on his face not only for his clumsiness, but mostly because of the pressure Geralt is applying on his hip. His fingers are gently digging in his skin, firmly but carefully keeping him in place, and Jaskier can’t stop his heart from racing at that caring touch. 

“How clumsy,” Jaskier chuckles, trying to hide his emotions. “Thanks for saving my life again.” 

“I hope this time there won’t be any smoke clouding your thoughts,” Geralt mutters, and Jaskier can swear he squeezes his hip before pulling away. 

“What do you mean?” he asks. 

“It would suck if you had to go to the hospital twice in a day.” 

“Of course,” Jaskier replies with another awkward chuckle as he tries to tone his hopes down. 

They finish making coffee together, but there’s an uncomfortable tension that Jaskier can’t seem to break. He isn’t able to forget about Geralt’s fingers on him and only wishes to feel more of that, but nothing in Geralt’s behaviour is hinting at a second round of that. Or at least that’s what he thinks until they sit down on the sofa. Since he can’t rest his foot on the ground, he has to stretch his leg on the couch, leaving very little room for Geralt to sit, but the man shocks him as he takes Jaskier’s foot and carefully places it on his leg. 

“I could have used a stool,” Jaskier says without really meaning those words; he’s loving the casual contact with Geralt. 

“I can’t trust you not to use your ankle when you shouldn't.” 

“Hey, I did that for you before, you know?” 

“How nice of you,” Geralt sarcastically replies. 

“I am injured, and you make fun of me like that? Rude, I’m never making you coffee again.” 

Geralt takes a sip from his mug to hide the smirk that is definitely on his lips. “For how long will you have to use the crutches?” 

“Some weeks.” 

“How will you go to work?” 

“My aunt will take me, I think. I still have to ask.” 

“I could drive you there if you want,” Geralt proposes, glancing at him with an unreadable expression. 

“I go to work pretty early,” Jaskier warns. 

“I’m pretty sure my car can drive at every hour.” 

“And why would you do that for me?” 

Geralt’s fingers sneak under the hem of Jaskier’s trousers. “Someone has to.” 

“That’s not the answer I wanted,” Jaskier says, a shiver running up his leg at the touch. 

“And what is the answer you wanted?” 

“Because you want to see me more.” 

Jaskier’s heart is pounding as he says that, hope pumping through his veins at every beat. When Geralt meets his gaze, the light in his eyes makes every word worth it. Jaskier puts his coffee down and moves closer to him, leg sliding across Geralt’s lap. 

“Isn’t this the answer you wanted to give me?” he slurs, eyes inevitably going to Geralt’s mouth. 

“You found me out,” Geralt mutters, following his gaze. 

Jaskier’s whole body is burning up from how badly he wants to kiss him. He can only think about Geralt’s lips, slightly parted and chapped, so inviting he can’t tear his eyes away. He glances up and only then notices he has leaned forward and is now so close to Geralt’s face he can feel his breath on his skin. He gulps, wetting his lips as he thinks of something to say, but he doesn’t have the time as Geralt leans forward too. 

Jaskier’s heart is pounding in his ears, his fingers itch as he grips the headboard, trying not to glide them up Geralt’s forearm. He can smell the coffee when Geralt is mere inches away from him, and the memories it brings back - all the moments spent at the café together - override Jaskier’s hesitation, and he finally closes the distance between them with wanting lips. 

Geralt replies to the kiss without a second thought, pressing their mouths together with determination. It is worth all the awkward moments Jaskier has put himself in, from the first time he ran his mouth when Geralt saved his life to him almost falling in the kitchen earlier. The way Geralt is responding is twisting his stomach into knots of happiness and excitement, of increasing need as he never gets enough of feeling Geralt’s lips on his. 

He shifts closer, trying to straddle Geralt’s lap, but he has to stop when a shock of pain shoots up his leg and he groans in discomfort. 

“What are you doing?” Geralt asks, pulling away. 

“I wanted to sit on your lap, I forgot my stupid ankle is sprained.” 

There is a soft smile on Geralt’s lips as he puts his coffee down and turns, guiding Jaskier down on the sofa while he settles on top of him. 

“How about this?” 

“Could work,” Jaskier grins, pulling Geralt down into a kiss again. 

He wraps his hands around the man’s shoulders while their lips move together, playing with his hair. Geralt softly grunts in protest but instead of breaking free, he kisses Jaskier harder, biting his lip and pulling it until Jaskier opens his mouth. Their tongues meet in a fiery dance they can’t get enough of, gliding on each other and exploring the other’s mouth, getting acquainted to their taste and feeling. 

Jaskier can’t help but moan in satisfaction as all his wishes come true, and his hands tug harder at Geralt’ hair, hiding deeper into it and keeping the man close. Geralt groans again and Jaskier wonders if maybe he has discovered his weak spot. With a mischievous grin threatening to overcome his lips, he pulls the white hair again, and this time Geralt has to move back as a low growl resounds from his chest. 

“I knew you had long hair for a reason,” Jaskier grins. 

“Because I like it that way,” Geralt glares. 

“You sure do.” 

Before Geralt could deny the undeniable, Jaskier presses their lips together again, deepening the touch when the man gives in. They kiss on sofa for what feels like hours, biting and sucking, skin turning red for the prolonged contact. Jaskier pulls Geralt’s hair again, obtaining the same satisfying result as before. Geralt gets more eager every time Jaskier tugs particularly hard, and his semi is starting to press on Jaskier. 

The brunet hooks his good leg behind Geralt’s and pushes him forward so that their cocks bump into each other, making them both moan. When Geralt tries to pull back, Jaskier keeps him in place and repeats the move, arousal shooting through him again. 

“Geralt,” he groans when he does it a third time. 

“Fuck, Jaskier,” Geralt replies, voice equally hoarse. 

“Yes, Geralt, please.” 

Geralt presses kisses down Jaskier’s neck, leaving a wet trail behind him. He bucks his hips forward, grinding on Jaskier’s cock, and the friction feels so good Jaskier’s eyes slide close. He lets himself go in the burning touch of Geralt’s lips, and his body moves of its own accord, eagerly awaiting more of that sweet pleasure that is lighting it up. His cock is throbbing in his pants, but he needs more of it, more of Geralt to be completely satisfied. 

He fumbles to find the zipper of Geralt’s jeans, but when he does, he unfastens it in mere seconds, freeing Geralt’s erection from its confinement. 

“Fuck,” Geralt hisses again, thrusting in Jaskier’s hand. 

“God, you’re so hot.” 

Geralt groans and kisses Jaskier, rolling his tongue in his mouth as he unbuckles his pants too. Jaskier sighs when he pulls down his underwear and rubs their cocks together. Geralt is warm on him, so hard it feels divine against him. He jerks his hips up to meet him but is once again reminded of his ankle and has to break the kiss while he hisses in pain. 

Geralt lifts Jaskier’s leg up so that it doesn't lie on the couch anymore. “Better?” 

“Much better,” Jaskier replies, taking him down for a kiss again. 

Geralt thrusts his hips once more and at every movement more moans bubble in Jaskier’s chest until he has to pull back to let them out. The way Geralt’s cock glides on his leaves him breathless, and he can only embrace the fire that is spreading through his body. He pulls Geralt’s hair again while the man licks up his neck, and his kisses turn into bites the harder Jaskier tugs. 

Jaskier calls out his name, exposing more of his neck to his rough touch and grabbing fistfuls of hair to urge him on. Geralt wraps his fingers around their cocks, stroking them both as best as he can while his hips keep moving. Pleasure is taking over Jaskier and he’s already so close his cock is leaking precum on both him and Geralt, but he doesn’t care about the mess, doesn’t care about anything that isn’t Geralt. 

He brings their lips together again, sloppily kissing him when his pants let him breathe. He twists his fingers in Geralt’s hair, mostly for support as he is nearing his orgasm, but Geralt seems to like it too and his thrusts get faster, cocks twitching together. 

“Geralt,” Jaskier calls out as a warning, but as soon as the word leaves him, he trips over the edge, and comes all over himself. Geralt follows him soon after, softly grunting on his lips, cum ending up on Jaskier’s shirt. 

He tenderly kisses Jaskier before sitting up, carefully putting down Jaskier’s leg. He slumps back on the sofa, and they’re both quiet as they regain their breath. All Jaskier can think of is how mind-blowing this has been, and an affectionate afterglow settles on his heart as he looks at Geralt with tender eyes. 

Afterwards, Geralt helps him to the bathroom and then takes him to his room to change his shirt. Jaskier has to admit he likes being carried around the house by him, and even when they move back to the sofa he remains on his lap, arms around his neck and fingers mindlessly playing with his hair. 

“I might have almost died in a fire and have sprained my ankle, but I’m not upset with the outcome of risking my life like that.” 

“Really now?” Geralt asks with a chuckle. 

“It was all worth it,” Jaskier smiles. “Aren’t you glad my house set on fire that day?” 

Geralt scoffs, shaking his head, but when he looks at Jaskier his features have softened, and he is caressing his thigh. “I am,” he replies with a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Toss a comment to your writer :)  
> [ Tumblr ](https://geraskier-hell.tumblr.com/)


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